Awaking (The Naturals, #1) (4 page)

“Can I bring Ris?” Morgan asked immediately.

Tesin just stared at her, confused, but Kellen chuckled.

“Your little blond friend? From the party? Sure,” said Kellen. “You can bring her.”

Wen gave Kellen a closed look. “Really?” He sounded dubious.

Kellen just nodded. “It’ll be fine.” And that seemed to close the matter.

Tesin opened the car door and got out, leaning back in to move his seat forward. “Okay, we should let you go.”

Morgan climbed out of the back seat, grateful to feel solid ground underfoot.

“You gonna make it?” Tesin’s voice was quiet, meant just for her.

She considered his question a moment before nodding. “I think so. It’s just… It’s a lot to take in, you know.”

He nodded. “Just try not to let all this stuff freak you out. Kellen will call tomorrow. And I’ll see you tomorrow night. We’ll explain more then.” Not waiting for a response, Tesin swung himself back into the car and shut the door. He backed out of the space and pulled out onto the street as Morgan stood and watched.

When they were out of sight, Morgan finally moved toward her car. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and pushed at the button on her remote; however, her grip was not as sure as she anticipated, and she ended up dropping them and kicking them across the parking lot. She stopped, putting her hands over her face and pressing her fingertips against her eyelids. She needed to pull it together before she could drive home, but the proposition was a difficult one to accept. Her brain was still working through what she’d seen: mind control, the taking of energy from a completely wiling person. There was the strength she had sensed in Kellen after he took that girl’s energy.

Then, of course, there was the fact that she could sense the strength of Kellen’s energy to begin with.

Suddenly, she sensed something else. Though her eyes were still closed she knew someone was approaching her.

“Morgan? Are these yours?”

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times to focus them. Standing before her was Corbin, his dark blond hair strategically mussed, his green eyes fixed on her. From his outstretched fingers dangled her car keys. She reached out and took them from him. “Thanks.”

He studied her closely. “You okay?”

She shifted under his scrutiny. “Do you care?”

He smiled. “Of course I do. I care immensely about you. You’re my favorite school psychic, you know.”

Morgan wanted to point out that she was the only school psychic, but she didn’t. “That’s hard to believe, since you’ve never come for a reading.”

“I read your horoscopes in the newspaper, though.” He ran a hand through his hair—on the side, Morgan noticed, so as not to destroy the casually unkempt effect. “Look, I’m sorry about last night. Marya and Shayna were out of line.”

The memory of her exchange with Lynna’s minions jolted Morgan’s mind from the craziness of what she had just experienced and her thoughts landed in an entirely different place: Kellen had said that her mother was a Natural, that she had abilities like his. Could that really be true? Had she really had some sort of vision that told her she needed to leave Morgan, leave Morgan’s father?

Corbin must have taken Morgan’s silence for discomfort, so he changed the subject. “I noticed you and Clare seemed to be having fun later on in the night, though, so I guess that’s good.”

Morgan bristled as she did any time Corbin called Ris Clare. She knew that her friend’s full name was Clarissa and that she had gone by Clare in elementary school, but she’d been Ris since sixth grade. Leave it to someone like Corbin not to notice.

“She’s a really good dancer,” Corbin continued. “And she looked fantastic last night. You both did.”

She couldn’t stifle a snort.

“What?” Corbin shrugged, putting his hands palm-up. “It’s true. I didn’t really like Clare’s hair when she got it cut short like it is, but I like when she spikes it a little and puts those sparkly barrettes or whatever in it. And, Morgan, you rocked those high heels.”

Morgan just stared at him, surprised he recalled with that much detail how she and Ris looked at the party.

A car pulled into the parking lot, drawing Corbin’s attention. He saluted the driver with a chin raise. “Well, I should probably get inside. I’m meeting my band here and we’re scheduling some dates to play. You and Clare should come see us sometime.”

Corbin’s face was open and earnest, and Morgan found herself believing he really meant it. But that was the problem with Corbin: he always seemed like that. He could be talking to a bum on the street and appear just as genuine in his invitation.

Two of Corbin’s band mates approached him and Morgan felt it was the perfect time to exit. She mumbled a generic goodbye before getting into her car and starting for home. But as she pulled onto the street, she got the distinct impression that Corbin was thinking about her.

She didn’t know which was more disturbing: that she was able to sense the thoughts of another person or that Corbin Starling seemed to have taken an interest in her.

Chapter Four

The next morning found Morgan in the senior lot at ABC.

In her sophomore year, Morgan was placed in the Journalism and Yearbook class. It was a mistake with her schedule: Morgan never signed up for it, was not interested in the class at all. However, before she was able to go through with a schedule change request, she was won over by the course’s teacher, Mr. Kment. He offered to let Morgan write horoscopes for the paper, and since then, JY had been Morgan’s favorite class.

Therefore, the fact that the JY staff had to come in to school three weeks before the school year was to begin didn’t bother Morgan at all. Instead, she was rather excited to see some of her fellow staff members—McKenna Orlowski and Stew Lackowski among them. And, of course, it would be nice to see Mr. K.

Morgan placed her cell phone into her glove box—Mr. K frowned upon them using cells during meetings—but hesitated before closing it. Kellen hadn’t contacted her yet with information about the party and she wanted to have it with her in case he called. After a moment’s debate, she slammed the glove box closed. If he called, she could call back.

She headed into the school building and up to the JY room. The room was actually two rooms combined. It had large windows all along the outside wall and a great many tables arranged haphazardly with mismatched chairs surrounding them. In addition to a half dozen or so computers lining the non-windowed walls, there was a laptop cart nestled in a corner.

When she walked into the room, she saw Mr. K immediately. He wore his usual summer-and-Fridays uniform of blue jeans and a solid-color T-shirt (dark blue today). His light brown hair was especially short—he must have just gotten it cut—and on his face was its characteristic stubble, like he shaved yesterday. He was attempting to hook up the data projector. Morgan smiled; he was forever having difficulty with this particular task.

“Hey, Mr. K,” she said, walking toward him. “Need some help?”

Mr. K turned to her and smiled. “Morgan. It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too,” Morgan said. And she meant it. She and Ris often joked about the crush Morgan cherished for her teacher. Not that it was a real crush. Not really. It wasn’t like Morgan wanted to date Mr. K or have some sort of elicit relationship with him—she had what Ris liked to call a nonsexual crush on him. She found him very easy on the eyes. She liked to look at him. And he made the long hours the JY staff pulled much, much more tolerable.

“How’s your summer been?” Mr. K asked. He pushed a button on the projector and it beeped angrily.

Morgan shrugged. “Busy.”

“Still telling fortunes?”

She smiled. “You know it. How was your summer?”

Mr. K looked at Morgan for a moment then shrugged. “Busy, too.” He glanced over Morgan’s shoulder as someone else entered the room. “Maybe I’ll be able to tell you about it sometime.”

Morgan turned as another person entered the room and her eyes landed on her friend McKenna Orlowski. Morgan smiled. She walked over to McKenna and engaged in the usual how-have-you-been conversation. As she did so, the person who entered the room just before McKenna walked over to Mr. K. She had blond hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head and wore knee-length linen cargo shorts and a light button-up blouse. Morgan didn’t recognize her, but she seemed to know Mr. K. She called him Greg and nudged him out of the way so she could hook up the projector. Though she looked almost as though she could be a student, Morgan wondered if she was a new teacher.

She also wondered what Mr. K’s last statement to her had meant. He said he might be able to tell Morgan about his summer sometime. It seemed like an odd turn of phrase. But she couldn’t reflect on it too much because the room was filling up. McKenna snagged a table for her and Morgan to sit at, and they were soon joined by Stew Lackowski, a thickset senior with a buzz-cut and a perpetual kind streak.

The room filled, and within five minutes, Mr. Kment called for the staff’s attention and started talking about last year’s yearbook and the theme they chose for this year’s book. Morgan didn’t pay much attention. She worked primarily on the newspaper. She didn’t mind coming to yearbook meetings, though, as they were an excuse to stare at Mr. K. But today she found she couldn’t lose herself in watching him because her mind was back in the glove box of her car with her phone. Had Kellen called yet? What if she entered her phone number wrong? What if he called and needed to talk to her right then? What if he’d found out something about her mother?

By the time Mr. Kment was ready to show the staff a slide presentation of excellent spread designs, Morgan felt physically agitated. She was tapping her fingernails on the tabletop so loudly that people from neighboring tables were shooting her dirty looks. Even Stew, who was rather easygoing, went so far as to cover Morgan’s hands with his.

“Morgan, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Morgan just shook her head. “Too much caffeine this morning, I think,” she lied. “I’m gonna go get a drink of water.”

Stew eyed her dubiously but nodded.

Trying not to draw any more attention to herself, Morgan got out of her seat and walked quietly to the hallway, considering walking down to her car just to check her phone. When she was about halfway down the hall, she realized someone was following her. When she turned, she expected to see McKenna or maybe Stew, so she was surprised when she saw the woman who called Mr. K by his first name earlier.

“Are you okay?” she asked, walking toward Morgan.

“Um… yeah,” Morgan replied. “I just… I needed a drink of water.”

She waited for the woman to say something, feeling it would be rude to just turn her back and continue down the hall. However, the woman didn’t say anything, so Morgan asked the question that had been on her mind since she’d first seen her. “So… who are you?”

The woman seemed slightly surprised by the question, but she smiled. “New English teacher. Ellie—Miss Scotford.” She smiled again, apologetically. “I worked at a small school for the last couple years and the students all called the teachers by their first names. It’s taking some getting used to.”

Morgan nodded. “So—and I don’t mean to be rude—but what are you doing here?”

“Fair question.” She smiled. “I worked on the newspaper and yearbook at my last school and when I got hired here, I volunteered my services. And Greg—Mr. Kment—was really happy to have some assistance.”

Morgan didn’t know what to say to that, so she just smiled. For a few moments, she and Miss Ellie Scotford just stared at each other. Then Miss Scotford motioned to the JY door. “I’d better get back in there. Nice talking to you, Morgan.”

Miss Scotford walked back into the room, and Morgan made a quick trip out to her car. There were no alerts on her phone and Morgan found she was both disappointed and relieved. Resolving to put Kellen’s impending call out of her mind until the end of the meeting, she made her way back into the school. It wasn’t until she was almost back to the JY door that she realized something: Miss Scotford had called Morgan by her name, but Morgan hadn’t introduced herself.

She wasn’t able to reflect on this discovery for long, however, because when she got back to the room, she saw that Mr. K’s presentation was over and the staff was already at work. Morgan smiled. She loved the look of the JY room when everyone was working. It made her feel like she was part of something important.

Apparently she took just a little too long in her appreciation, however, because Lia Roderick, this year’s editor-in-chief, approached Morgan, hands on hips. She looked polished and put together, as usual, with her brown hair in a bob just below her chin and a pale yellow shirt that flattered her soft cocoa skin. Upon seeing Morgan, she immediately put on her not amused face.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Lia asked, brushstroke eyebrows arched in irritation.

“I was considering it,” she said, just because she knew it would irk Lia.

It seemed to work. Lia crossed her arms over her chest and took a step closer to Morgan. “Look here. I know Mr. Kment’s always gone kind of easy on you, but I’m your editor this year, and I don’t want your sass. Do I make myself clear?”

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Morgan asked.

This comment elicited an exasperated sigh from Lia, who stalked off to terrorize a couple of first-year members of the staff.

Morgan shrugged and walked back to the table where McKenna and Stew were working.

McKenna looked up as Morgan approached the table. “How was your run-in with the fuehrer?”

“Ouch. That’s a bit rough, isn’t it?” asked Stew.

McKenna shrugged. “Now that her name’s listed as editor-in-chief, I’m sure she’s going to do more micro-managing than ever. And it looks like the micro-managing has already begun. Morgan?”

Morgan nodded. “She seemed very concerned that I wasn’t working already.” She sighed. “What’re we doing, anyway?”

McKenna explained their task and Morgan set to helping. During the remainder of the meeting, Morgan noticed that Lia didn’t stop circulating once. She stopped by Morgan’s table not less than a half dozen times. Morgan found it a bit disconcerting. She also noticed Mr. K and Miss Scotford spending a lot of time off to the side of the room, talking quietly to each other. Morgan found this disconcerting, too.